A Mummer's Wife by George Moore

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'success' returned in her thoughts like the refrain of a song. Yes, she hadsucceeded. Wherever she went she would be admired. There was something tolive for at last.

The T-light flared, and she stopped and began to wonder at the invention,so absurd did it seem; and then feeling that such thoughts were a waste oftime, she took up the thread of her memories and had just begun to enjoyagain a certain round of applause when Beaumont and Dolly Goddard awoke herwith the question, had she seen Dick? Kate tried to remember. Ascene-shifter going by said that he had seen Mr. Lennox leave the theatresome twenty minutes ago.

'I suppose he will come back for me,' Kate said; 'or perhaps I'd better goon? Are you coming my way?'

Beaumont and Dolly said they were and proposed that they should pop into apub before closing time. Kate hesitated to accept the invitation, butBeaumont insisted, and as it was a question of drinking to the night'ssuccess she consented to accompany them.

'No, not here,' said Beaumont, shoving the swing-doors an inch or so apart:'it's too full. I'll show you the way round by the side entrance.'

And giggling, the girls slipped into the private apartment.

'What will you have, dear?' asked Beaumont in an apologetic whisper.

'I think I'll have a whisky.'

'You'll have the same, Dolly?'

'Scotch or Irish?' asked the barman.

The girls consulted a moment and decided in favour of Irish.

With nods and glances, the health of Serpolette was drunk, and then fearingto look as if she were sponging, Kate insisted on likewise standing treat.Fortunately, when the second round had been drunk, closing time wasannounced by the man in the shirtsleeves, and bidding her friends good-bye,Kate stood in the street trying to think if she ought to return to thetheatre to look after Dick or go home and find him there.

She decided on the latter alternative and walked slowly along the street. Achill wind blew up from the sea, and the sudden transition from the hotatmosphere of the bar brought the fumes of the whisky to her head and shefelt a little giddy. An idea of drunkenness suggested itself; it annoyedher, and repulsing it vehemently, her thoughts somewhat savagely fastenedon to Dick as the culprit. 'Where had he gone?' she asked, at firstcuriously, but at each repetition she put the question more sullenly toherself. If he had come back to fetch her she would not have been led intogoing into the public-house with Beaumont; and, irritated that any shadowshould have fallen on the happiness of the evening, she walked sturdilyalong until a sudden turn brought her face to face with her lover.

'Oh!' he said, starting. 'Is that you, Kate? I was just cutting back to thetheatre to fetch you.'

'Yes, a nice time you've kept me waiting,' she answered; but as she spokeshe recognized the street they were in as the one in which Leslie lived.The blood rushed to her face, and tearing the while the paper fringe of herbouquet, she said,' I know very well where you've been to! I want notelling. You've been round spending your time with Leslie.'

'Well,' said Dick, embarrassed by the directness with which she divined hiserrand, 'I don't see what harm there was in that; I really thought that Iought to run and see how she was.'

Struck by the reasonableness of this answer, Kate for the moment remainedsilent, but a sudden remembrance forced the anger that was latent in her toher head, and facing him again she said:

'How dare you tell me such a lie! You know very well you went to see herbecause you like her, because you love her.'

Dick looked at her, surprised.

'I assure you, you're mistaken' he said. But at that moment Bret passedthem in the street, hurrying towards Leslie's. The meeting was anunfortunate one, and it sent a deeper pang of jealousy to Kate's heart.

'There,' she said, 'haven't I proof of your baseness? What do you say tothat?'

'To what?'

'Don't pretend innocence. Didn't you see Bret passing? You choose your timenicely to pay visits--just when he should be out.'

'Oh!' said Dick, surprised at the ingenuity of the deduction. 'I give youmy word that such an idea never occurred to me.'

But before he could get any further with his explanation Kate again cut himshort, and in passionate words told him he was a monster and a villain. Sotaken aback was he by this sudden manifestation of temper on the part ofone in whom he did not suspect its existence, that he stopped, to assurehimself that she was not joking. A glance sufficed to convince him; andmaking frequent little halts between the lamp-posts to argue the differentpoints more definitely, they proceeded home quarrelling. But on arriving atthe door, Kate experienced a moment of revolt that surprised herself. Thepalms of her hands itched, and consumed with a childish desire to scratchand beat this big man, she beat her little feet against the pavement. Dickfumbled at the lock. The delay still further irritated her, and it seemedimpossible that she could enter the house that night.

'Aren't you coming in?' he said at last.

'No, not I. You go back to Miss Leslie; I'm sure she wants you to attend toher ankle.'

This was too absurd, and Dick expostulated gently. But nothing he could saywas of the slightest avail, and she refused to move from the doorstep. Thenbegan a long argument; and in brief phrases, amid frequent interruptions,all sorts of things were discussed. The wind blew very cold; Kate did notseem to notice it, but Dick shivered in his fat; and noticing his tremblingshe taunted him with it, and insultingly advised him to go to bed. Notknowing what answer to give to this, he walked into the sitting-room andsat down by the fire. How long would she remain on the doorstep? he askedhimself humbly, until his reflections were interrupted by the sound ofsteps. It was Montgomery, and chuckling, Dick listened to him reasoningwith Kate. The cold was so intense that the discussion could not becontinued for long; and when the two friends entered Dick was prepared fora reconciliation. But in this he was disappointed. She merely consented tosit in the armchair, glaring at her lover. Montgomery tried to argue withher, but he could scarcely succeed in getting her to answer him, and it wasnot until he began to question Dick on the reason of the quarrel that sheconsented to speak; and then her utterances were rather passionate denialsof her lover's statements than any distinct explanation. There were alsolong silences, during which she sat savagely picking at the paper of thebouquet, which she still retained. At last Montgomery, noticing the supperthat no one cared to touch, said:

'Well, all I know is, that it's very unfortunate that you should havechosen this night of all others, the night of her success, to have a row. Iexpected a pleasant evening.'

'Success, indeed!' said Kate, starting to her feet. 'Was it for such asuccess as this that he took me away from my home? Oh, what a fool I was!Success! A lot I care for the success, when he has been spending theevening with Leslie.' And unable to contain herself any longer, she tore ahandful of flowers out of her bouquet and threw them in Dick's face.Handful succeeded handful, each being accompanied by a shower of vehementwords. The two men waited in wonderment, and when passionate reproaches andspring flowers were alike exhausted, a flood of tears and a rush into thenext room ended the scene.

XVII

As soon as it was announced that Miss Leslie suffered so much with herankle that she would be unable to travel, the whole company called to seethe poor invalid; the chorus left their names, the principals went up tosit by the sofa-side, and all brought her something: Beaumont, a basket offruit; Dolly Goddard, a bouquet of flowers; Dubois, an interesting novel;Mortimer, a fresh stock of anecdotes. Around her sofa sprains werediscussed. Dubois had known a _premiere danseuse_ at the Opera House,in Paris, but the handing round of cigarettes prevented his story frombeing heard, and Beaumont related instead how Lord Shoreham in youth hadbroken his legs out hunting. The relation might not have come to an endthat evening if Leslie had not asked Bret to change her position on thesofa, and when he and Dick went out of the room a look of inquiry waspassed round.

'You needn't be uneasy. I wouldn't let Bret stop for anything. I shall bevery comfortable here. My landlady is as kind as she can be and the roomsare very nice.'

A murmur of approval followed these words, and continuing Miss Leslie said,laying her hand on Kate's:

'And my friend here will play my parts until I come back. You must beginto-night, my dear, and try to work up Clairette. If you're a quick studyyou may be able to play it on Wednesday night.'

This was too much; the tears stood in Kate's eyes. She had in her pocket alittle gold _porte-bonheur_ which she had bought that morning to makea present of to her once hated rival, but she waited until they were aloneto slip it on the good natured prima donna's wrist. The parting between thetwo women was very touching, and being in a melting mood Kate made a fullconfession of her quarrel with Dick, and, abandoning herself, she soughtfor consolation. Leslie smiled curiously, and after a long pause said:

'I know what you mean, dear, I've been jealous myself; but you'll get overit, and learn to take things easily as I do. Men aren't worth it.' The lastphrase seemed to have slipped from her inadvertently, and seeing how shehad shocked Kate she hastened to add, 'Dick is a very good fellow, and willlook after you; but take my advice, avoid a row; we women don't gainanything by it.'

The words dwelt long in Kate's mind, but she found it hard to keep hertemper. Her temper surprised even herself. It seemed to be giving way, andshe trembled with rage at things that before would not have stirred anunquiet thought in her mind. Remembrances of the passions that used toconvulse her when a child returned to her. As is generally the case, therewas right on both sides. Her life, it must be confessed, was woven aboutwith temptations. Dick's character easily engendered suspicion, and whenthe study of the part of Clairette was over, the iron of distrust beganagain to force its way into her heart. The slightest thing sufficed toarouse her. On one occasion, when travelling from Bath to Wolverhampton,she could not help thinking, judging from the expression of the girl'sface, that Dick was squeezing Dolly's foot under the rug; without a wordshe moved to the other end of the carriage and remained looking out of thewindow for the rest of the journey, Another time she was seized with a fitof mad rage at seeing Dick dancing with Beaumont at the end of the secondact of _Madame Angot_. There were floods of tears and a distinctrefusal 'to dress with that woman.' Dick was in despair! What could he do?There was no spare room, and unless she went to dress with the chorus hedidn't know what she'd do.

'My God!' he exclaimed to Mortimer, as he rushed across the stage after the'damned property-man,' 'never have your woman playing in the same theatreas yourself; it's awful!'

For the last couple of weeks everything he did seemed to be wrong. Success,instead of satisfying Kate, seemed to render her more irritable, andinstead of contenting herself with the plaudits that were nightly showeredupon her, her constant occupation was to find out either where Dick was orwhat he had been doing or saying. If he went up to make a change withouttelling her she would invent some excuse for sending to inquire after him;if he were giving some directions to the girls at one of the top entrances,she would walk from the wing where she was waiting for her cue to ask himwhat he was saying. This watchfulness caused a great deal of merriment inthe theatre, and in the dressing-rooms Mortimer's imitation of thecatechism the manager was put to at night was considered very amusing.

'My dear, I assure you you're mistaken. I only smoked two cigarettes afterlunch, and then I had a glass of beer. I swear I'm concealing nothing fromyou.'

And this is scarcely a parody of the strict surveillance under which Dicklived, but from a mixture of lassitude and good nature it did not seem toannoy him too much, and he appeared to be most troubled when Kate murmuredthat she was tired, that she hated the profession and would like to go andlive in the country. For now she complained of fatigue and weariness; thesociety of those who formed her life no longer interested her, and she tookviolent and unreasoning antipathies. It was not infrequent for Mortimer andMontgomery to make an arrangement to grub with the Lennoxes whenever alandlady could be discovered who would undertake so much cooking. Butwithout being able to explain why, Kate declared she could not abidesitting face to face with the heavy lead. She saw and heard quite enough ofhim at the theatre without being bothered by him in the day-time. Dick madeno objection. He confessed, and, willingly, that he was a bit tired ofdisconnected remarks, and the wit of irrelevancies; and Mortimer, he said,fell to sulking if you didn't laugh at his jokes. Montgomery continued toboard with them, the young man very uncertain always whether he would be asunhappy away from her as he was with her. He often dreamed of sending inhis resignation, but he could not leave the company, having begun to lookupon himself as her guardian angel; and, without consulting Dick, theyarranged deftly that Dubois should be asked to take Mortimer's place. Dickapproved when the project was unfolded to him, the natty appearance of thelittle foreigner was a welcome change after Mortimer's draggled show ofgenius. He could do everything better than anybody else, but that did notmatter, for he was amusing in his relations. Whether you spoke of Balzac'sposition in modern fiction or the rolling of cigarettes, you were certainto be interrupted with, 'I assure you, my dear fellow, you're mistaken'uttered in a stentorian voice. On the subject of his bass voice a childcould draw him out, and, under the pretext of instituting a comparisonbetween him and one of the bass choristers, Montgomery never failed toinduce him to give the company an idea of his register, At first to see thelittle man settling the double chin into his chest in his efforts to get atthe low D used to convulse Kate with laughter, but after a time even thisgrew monotonous, and wearily she begged Montgomery to leave him alone.'Nothing seems to amuse you now' he would say with a mingled look ofaffection and regret. A shrug of the shoulder she considered a sufficientanswer for him, and she would sink back as if pursuing to its furthestconsequences the train of some far-reaching ideas.

And in wonder these men watched the progress of Kate's malady without eversuspecting what was really the matter with her. She was homesick. But notfor the house in Hanley and the dressmaking of yore. She had come to lookupon Hanley, Ralph, Mrs. Ede, the apprentices and Hender as a bygone dream,to which she could not return and did not wish to return. Her homesicknesswas not to go back to the point from which she had started, but to settledown in a house for a while.

'Not for long, Dick,' she said, 'a month; even a fortnight would make allthe difference. We spent a fortnight at Blackpool, but we have never stayeda fortnight at the same place since.'

'I know what's the matter with you, Kate,' he answered; 'you want aholiday; so do I; we all want a holiday. One of these days we shall get onewhen the tour comes to an end.'

It did not seem to Kate that the tour would ever come to an end: she wouldalways be going round like a wheel.

Dick begged her to have patience, and she resolved to have patience, butone Saturday night in the middle of her packing the vision of the longrailway journey that awaited her on the morrow rose up suddenly in hermind, and she could not do else than spring to her feet, and standing overthe half-filled trunk she said:

'Dick, I cannot, I cannot; don't ask me.'

'Ask you what?' he said.

'To go to Bath with you to-morrow morning,' she answered.

'You won't come to Bath!' he cried. 'But who will play Clairette?'

'I will, of course.'

'I don't understand, Kate,' Dick replied.

'I only want one day off. Why shouldn't I spend the Sunday in Leamingtonand go to church? I want a little rest. I can't help it, Dick.'

'Well, I never! You seem to get more and more capricious every day.'

'Then you won't let me?' said Kate, with a flush flowing through her olivecheeks.

'Won't let you! Why shouldn't you stay if it pleases you, dear? Montgomeryis staying too; he wants to see an aunt of his who lives in the town.'

Dick's unaffected kindness so touched Kate's sensibilities that the tearswelled up into her eyes, and she flung herself into his arms sobbinghysterically. For the moment she was very happy, and she looked into thedream of the long day she was going to spend with Montgomery, afraid lestsome untoward incident might rob her of her happiness. But nothing fell outto blot her hopes, everything seemed to be happening just as she hadforeseen it, and trembling with pleasurable excitement the twain hurriedthrough the town inquiring out the way to the Wesleyan Church. At last itwas found in a distant suburb, and her emotion almost from the moment sheentered into the peace of the building became so uncontrollable that tohide the tears upon her cheeks she was forced to bury her face in herhands, and in the soft snoring of the organ, recollections of her lifefrothed up; but as the psalm proceeded her excitement abated, until at lastit subsided into a state of languid ecstasy. Nor was it till thecongregation knelt down with one accord for the extemporary prayer that sheasked pardon for her sins. 'But how could God forgive her her sins if shepersevered in them?' she asked herself. 'How could she leave Dick andreturn to Hanley? Her husband would not receive her; her life had got intoa tangle and might never get straight again. But all is in the hands ofGod,' and thinking of the woman that had been and the woman that was, sheprayed God to consider her mercifully. 'God will understand,' she said,'how it all came about; I cannot.'

Montgomery was kneeling in the pew beside her, and he wondered at seeingher so absorbed in prayer; he did not know that she was so pious, andthought that such piety as hers was not in accord with the life she hadtaken up and the company with which they were touring. But perhaps it was amere passing emotion, a sudden recrudescence of her past life which wouldfade away and never return again; he hoped that this was the case, for hebelieved in her talent, and that a London success awaited her. He kept hiseyes averted from her, knowing that his observation would distress her, andafter church she said she would like to go for a walk and he suggested theriver.

In the shade of spreading trees they watched the boats passing, and in thecourse of the afternoon talked of many things and of many people, and itpleased and surprised them to find that their ideas coincided, and in thepauses of the conversation they wondered why they had never spoken to eachother like this before. He was often tempted to hold out prospects of aLondon success with a view to cheering her, but he felt that this was notthe moment to do so. But she, being a little less tactful, spoke to him ofhis music with a view to pleasing him, but he could not detach his thoughtsfrom her, and could only tell her that he heard her voice in the music ashe composed it.

'The afternoon is passing,' he said; 'it's time to begin thinking of tea.'Whereupon they rose to their feet and walked a long way into the country insearch of an inn, and finding one they had tea in a garden, and afterwardsthey dined in a sanded parlour and enjoyed the cold beef, although theycould not disguise from themselves the fact that it was a little tough. Butwhat matter the food? It was the close intimacy and atmosphere of the daythat mattered to them, and they returned to Leamington thinking of the daythat had gone by, a day unique in their experience, one that might neverreturn to them.

The ways were filled with Sunday strollers--mothers leading a tired childmoved steadily forward; a drunken man staggered over a heap of stones;sweethearts chased each other; occasionally a girl, kissed from behind asshe stretched to reach a honeysuckle, rent the airless evening with ascream.

Kate had not spoken for a long while, and Montgomery's apprehensions wereawakened. Of what could she be thinking? 'Something was on her mind,' hesaid to himself. 'Something has been on her mind all day,' he continued,and he began to ask himself if he should put his arm around her and beg ofher to confide in him. He would have done so if the striking of a clock hadnot reminded him that they had little time before them if they wished tocatch the train, so instead of asking her to confide in him he asked her totry to walk a little faster. She was tired. He offered her his arm.

'We've just time to get to the station and no more; it's lucky we have ourtickets.'

The guard on the platform begged them to hasten and to get in anywhere theycould. A moment afterwards they jumped into the carriage, and the trainrolled with a slight oscillating motion out of the station into the opencountry. Dim masses of trees, interrupted by spires and roofs, were paintedupon a huge orange sky that somehow reminded them of an _operabouffe_.

'What are you crying for?' Montgomery asked, bending forward.

'Oh, I don't know!--nothing,' exclaimed Kate, sobbing; 'but I'm veryunhappy. I know I've been very wicked, and am sure to be punished for it.'

'Nonsense! Nonsense!'

'God will punish me--know He will. I felt it all to-day in church. I'm donefor, I'm done for.'

'You've made a success on the stage. I never saw anyone get on so well inso short a time; and you're loved,' he added with a certain bitterness, 'asmuch as any woman could be.'

'That's what you think, but I know better. I see him flirting every daywith different girls.'

'You imagine those things. Dick couldn't speak roughly to anyone if hetried; but he doesn't care for any woman but you.'

'Of course, you say so. You're his friend.'

'I assure you 'pon my word of honour; I wouldn't tell you so if it weren'ttrue. You're my friend as much as he, aren't you?' and then, as if afraidthat she should read his thoughts, he added:

'I'm sure he hasn't kissed anyone since he knew you. I can't put it plainerthan that, can I?'

'I'm glad to hear you say so. I don't think you'd tell me a lie; it wouldbe too cruel, wouldn't it? For you know what a position I am in: if Dickwere to desert me to-morrow what should I do?'

'You're in a mournful humour. Why should Dick desert you? And even if hedid, I don't see that it would be such an awful fate.'

Startled, Kate raised her eyes suddenly and looked him straight in theface.

'What do you mean?' she said.

The abruptness of her question made him hesitate. In a swift instant heregretted having risked himself so far, and reproached himself for beingfalse to his friend; but the temptation was irresistible, and overcome bythe tenderness of the day, and irritated by the memory of years of vainlonging, he said:

'Even if he did desert you, you might, you would, find somebodybetter--somebody who'd marry you.'

Kate did not answer and they sat listening to the rattle of the train. Atlast she said:

'I could never marry anyone but Dick.'

'Why? Do you love him so much?'

'Yes, I love him better than anything in the world; but even if I didn't,there are reasons which would prevent my marrying anyone but him.'

'What reasons?'

A desire that someone should know of her trouble smothered all otherconsiderations, and after another attempt to speak she again dropped intosilence.

'Then you must do so at once,' Montgomery said, and the poor vagrantmusician, whom nobody had ever loved, said: 'I will speak to him about itthe first time I get a chance. It would be wicked of him not to. Hecouldn't refuse even if he didn't love you, which he does.'

The last streak of yellow had died out of the sky telling of the day thathad gone by, and in a deep tranquillity of mind Kate inhaled the sweetnessof her luck as a convalescent might a bunch of freshly culled violets.

XVIII

It never rains but it pours. She was called before the curtain after everyact in _Madame Angot_ and _Les Cloches de Corneville_, and Dicktold her that she would cut out all the London prima donnas, giving themthe go-by, and establish herself one of the great Metropolitan favouritesif he could get a new work over from France.

'Why a new work?' she asked, and he told her that to draw the attention ofthe critics and the public upon her, she must appear in a new title role,and sitting in his armchair when they came home from the theatre at night,he brooded many projects, the principal one of which was to obtain a newwork from France. But which of the three illustrious composers, Herve,Offenbach and Lecocq, should he choose to write the music? The book ofwords would have to be written before the music was composed, and so far ashe knew the only French composer who could set English words was Herve.

It seemed to Kate that he never would cease to draw forth a cigarette case,or to cross and uncross his legs. Did this man never wish to go to bed? Shehated stopping up after one o'clock in the morning. But, anxious to be aserviceable companion to him on all occasions, she strove against hersleepiness and listened to him whilst he considered whether her voice washeard to most advantage in Offenbach or in Herve. She had not yet playedthe _Grande Duchesse_, and there were parts in that opera that wouldsuit her very well. He would like to see her in _La Belle Helene_ andthe _Princess of Trebizond_, but the last-named opera was never asuccess in England, and he was not certain about the power of _LaPerichole_ to draw audiences in the provinces.

It was pleasant to Kate to hear her talent discussed, analyzed, set forthin the works of great men, but her thought had now turned from her artisticcareer to her domestic. She wanted to be married.

It had always been vaguely understood that they were to be married, that isto say, it had been taken for granted that when a fitting occasionpresented itself they would render their cohabitation legal. Thisunderstanding had satisfied her till now. In the first months, in the firstyear after the escape from Hanley, her happiness had been so great that shehad not had a thought of pressing matters further. She had feared to doanything lest she might destroy her happiness by doing so, and Dick, wholet everything slide until necessity forced him to take steps, had nottroubled himself about his marriage, although quite convinced that he wouldend by marrying Kate. He had treated his marriage exactly as he did histheatrical speculations.

'There is no hurry,' he answered her, and proposed that they should bemarried in London.

'But why in London?'

He spoke of his relations and his friends. He would like Kate to know hisold mother.

'But, Dick, dear, why not at once? We're living in a life of sin, and attimes the thought of the sin makes me miserable.'

Out of his animal repose Dick smiled at the religious argument, and beingon the watch always for a sneer, the blood rushed to her face instantly andshe exclaimed:

'If you did seduce me, if you did drag me away from my peaceful home, ifyou did make a travelling actress of me, you might at least refrain frominsulting my religion.'

Dick looked up, surprised. Kate had put down her knife and fork and waspouring herself out a large glass of sherry. She was evidently going towork herself up into one of her rages.

'I assure you, my dear, I never intended to insult your religion; and Iwish you wouldn't drink all that wine, it only excites you.'

'Excites me! What does it matter to you if I excite myself or not?'

'My dear Kate, this is very foolish of you. I don't see why--if you'll onlylisten to reason----'

'Listen to reason!' she said, spilling the sherry over the table, 'ah! itwould have been better if I'd never listened to you.'

'You really mustn't drink any more wine; I can't allow it,' said Dick,passing his arm across her and trying to take away the decanter.

This was the climax, and her pretty face curiously twisted, she screamed asshe struggled away from him:

Dick was so astonished at this burst of passion that he loosed for a momentthe arms he was holding, and profiting by the opportunity Kate seized himby the frizzly hair with one hand and dragged the nails of the other downhis face.

At this moment Montgomery entered; he stood aghast, and Kate, whose angerhad now expended itself, burst into a violent fit of weeping.

'What does this mean?' Montgomery said, speaking very slowly.

Neither answered. The man sought for words; the woman walked about the roomswinging herself; and as she passed before him Montgomery stopped her andbegged for an explanation. She gave him a swift look of grief, and breakingaway from him, shut herself in the bedroom.

'What does this mean?'

Dick looked round vaguely, astonished at the authoritative way the questionwas put, but without inquiring he answered:

'That's what I want to know. I never saw anything like it in my life. Wewere speaking of being married, when suddenly Kate accused me of insultingher religion, and then--well, I don't remember any more. She fell into sucha passion--you saw it yourself.'

'Did you say you wouldn't marry her?'

'No, on the contrary. I can't make it out. For the last month her caprices,fancies, and jealousies have been something awful!'

Montgomery made a movement as if he were going to reply, but checkinghimself, he remained silent. His face then assumed the settled appearanceof one who is inwardly examining the different sides of a complex question.At last he said:

'Let's come out for a walk, Dick, and we'll talk the matter over.'

'Do you think I can leave her?'

'It's the best thing you can do. Leave her to have her cry out,' andadopting the suggestion, Dick picked up his hat, and without further wordsthe men went out of the house, walking slowly arm in arm.

'I cannot understand what is the matter with Kate. When I knew her firstshe hadn't a bad temper.'

To this Montgomery made no answer. He was thinking.

After a pause Dick continued, as if speaking to himself:

'And the way she does badger me with her confounded jealousies; I'm afraidnow to tell a girl to move up higher on the stage. There are explanationsabout everything, and I can't think what it's all about. She has everythingshe requires. She hasn't been a year on the stage, and she's playingleading parts, and scoring successes too.'

'Perhaps she has reasons you don't know of.'

'Reasons I don't know of? What do you mean?' 'Well, you haven't told me yetwhat the row was about.'

'Tell you! That's just what I want to know myself.'

'What were you speaking about when it began?' asked Montgomery, who wasstill feeling his way.

'About our marriage.'

'Well, what did you say?'

'What did I say? I really don't remember; the row has put it all out of myhead. Let me think. I was saying--I mean she was asking me when we shouldbe married.'

'And what did you say to that? Did you fix a day?'

'Fix a day!' said Dick, looking in astonishment at his friend. 'How could Ifix a day?'

'I think if I loved a woman and she loved me I could manage somehow to fixa day.'

These words were spoken with an earnestness that attracted Dick'sattention, and he looked inquiringly at the young man.

'So you think I ought to marry her?'

'Think you ought to marry her?' exclaimed Montgomery indignantly; 'really,Dick, I didn't think you were--Just remember what she's given up for you.You owe it to her. Good heavens!'

'Well, you needn't get into a passion; I've had enough of passions for oneday.'

The impetuousness of the youth had struck through the fat nonchalance ofthe man, and he said after a pause:

'Yes, I suppose I do owe it to her.'

The apologetic, easy-going air with which this phrase was spoken maddenedMontgomery; he could have struck his friend full in the face, but for thesake of the woman he was obliged to keep his temper.

'Putting aside the question of what you owe and what you don't owe, I'dlike to ask you where you could find a nicer wife? She's the prettiestwoman in the company, she's making now five pounds a week, and she lovesyou as well as ever a woman loved a man. I should like to know what moreyou want.'

This was very agreeable to hear, and after a moment's reflection Dick said:

'That's quite true, my boy, and I like her better than any other woman. Idon't think I could get anything better. If it weren't for that infernaljealousy of hers. Really, her temper is no joke.'

'Her temper is all right; she was as quiet as a mouse when you knew herfirst. Take my word for it, there are excellent reasons for her being a bitput out.'

'What do you mean?'

'Can't you guess?'

The two men stopped and looked each other full in the face, and thenresuming his walk, Montgomery said:

'Yes, it's so; she told me in the train coming up from Leamington.'

Tears glittered in Dick's eyes, and he became in that moment all pity,kindness, and good-nature.

His humanity was as large as his fat, and although he had never thought ofthe joys of paternity, now, in the warmth of his sentiments, he melted intoone feeling of rapture. After a pause, he said:

'I think I'd better go back and see her.'

'Yes, I think you'd better; fix a day for your marriage.'

'Of course.'

Nothing further was said; each absorbed in different thoughts the two menretraced their steps, and when they arrived at the door, Montgomery said:

'I think I'd better wish you good-bye.'

'No, come in, old man; she'd like to see you.'

And as if anxious to torture himself to the last, Montgomery entered. Katewas still locked in the bedroom, but there was such an unmistakable accentof trepidation and anxiety in Dick's fingers and voice that she openedimmediately. Her beautiful black hair was undone, and fell in rich massesabout her. Dick took her in his arms, and held her sobbing on his shoulder.All he could say was, 'Oh, my darling, I'm so sorry; you will forgive me,won't you?'

XIX

'Well, what are you going to give her? Do you see anything you like here?'

'Do you think that paper-cutter would do?'

'You can't give anything more suitable, ma'am. Then there are thesecard-cases; nobody could fail to like them.'

'What are you going to give, Annie?'

'Oh, I'm going to give her the pair of earrings we saw yesterday; but if Iwere you I wouldn't spend more than half a sovereign: it's quite enough.'

'I should think so indeed--a third of a week's screw,' whispered Dolly,'but she ain't a bad one, and Dick will like it, and may give me a line orso in _Olivette_. How do you think she'll do in the part?'

'We'll talk about that another time. Are you going to buy thepaper-cutter?'

Casting her eyes in despair around the walls of the fancy-goods shop to seeif she could find anything she liked better, Dolly decided in favour of thepaper-cutter and paid the money after a feeble attempt at bargaining.

In the street they saw Mortimer, who had now allowed his hair to grow inlong, snake-like curls completely over his shoulders.

The girls turned to fly, but the heavy lead was upon them, and in his mostnasal tones said:

'Well, my dear young ladies, engaged in the charming occupation of buyingnuptial gifts?'

'How very sharp you are, Mr Mortimer,' answered Dolly in her pertestmanner; 'and what are you going to give? We should so much like to know.'

After a moment's hesitation he said, throwing up his chin after the mannerof a model sitting for a head of Christ:

'My dear young lady, you must not exhibit your curiosity in that way; it'snot modest.'

'But do tell us, Mr. Mortimer; you're a person of such good taste.'

The comic tragedian considered for a moment what he could say mostill-natured and so get himself out of his difficulty.

'I tell you, young lady, I'm not decided, but I think that a copy ofWesley's hymns bound up with the book of the _Grand Duchess_ might notbe inappropriate.'

'But how do you think she'll play the Countess?' asked Beaumont.

'Oh, we mustn't speak of that now she's going to be married,' and, thinkinghe could not better this last remark, Mortimer bade the ladies good-bye andwent off with curls and coat-tails alike swinging in the breeze. Farther upthe street Beaumont and Dolly were joined by Leslie, Bret, and Dubois, andthe same topics were again discussed. 'What are you going to give?' 'Haveyou bought your present?' 'Have you seen mine?' 'Do you know who's going tobe at the wedding breakfast? They can't ask more than a dozen or so.' 'Haveyou heard that the chorus have clubbed together to buy Dick a chain?' 'It'svery good of them, but they'll feel hurt at not being asked to thebreakfast.' 'What will the Lennoxes do?' These and a hundred otherquestions of a similar sort had been asked in the dressing-rooms, in thewings, in the streets at every available moment since Morton and Cox's_opera bouffe_ company had arrived in Liverpool. Everybody professedto consider the event the happiest and most fortunate that could havehappened, but Mortimer's words, 'There's many a slip between the ring andthe finger,' recurred to them whenever the conversation came to a pause,and they hoped the marriage might yet be averted, even when they stood onebright summer morning assembled on the stage, awaiting the arrival of thebride and bridegroom. The name of the church had been kept a secret, andall that was known was that Leslie--who had joined another company inLiverpool--Bret, Montgomery, and Beaumont had gone to attend as witnesses,and that they would be back at the theatre at twelve to run through thethird act of _Olivette_ before producing it that night.

Many false alarms were given, but when at last the bridal party walked fromthe wings on to the stage, Dick's appearance provoked a little good-naturedlaughter, so respectable did he look in a spick-and-span new frock-coat andhis tall hat. Kate never looked prettier; Mortimer said her own husbandwouldn't know her.

She wore a dark green silk pleated down the front, from underneath which apatent-leather boot peeped as she walked; a short jacket showed the drawingof her shoulders, the delicacy of her waist, and the graceful fall of thehips. She carried in her hand a bouquet of yellow and pink roses, a presentfrom Montgomery.

'Now, ladies and gentlemen, I won't detain you long, but do let us runthrough the third act, so as to have it right for the night. Montgomery,will you oblige me by playing over that sailor-chorus?'

Dick took the girls in sections and placed them in the positions he desiredthem to hold.

'Now, then; enter the Countess. Who's in love with the Countess?'

'Well, if you don't know, I don't know who does,' said Mortimer. 'I hearyou've been swearing all the morning "till death do us part."'

A good deal of laughter greeted this pleasantry and Dick himself could notrefrain from joining in. At last he said:

'Now, Kate, dear, do leave off laughing and run through your song.'

'I-I-ca-n't--can-'t; you--you--are--t-t-too funny.'

'We shall never get through this act,' said Dick, who had just caught MissLeslie walking off with Bret into the green-room. Now, Miss Leslie, can'tyou wait until this rehearsal is over?'

'They'll be late for church to-day; they may as well wait.'

Another roar of laughter followed this remark, and Kate said:

'You'd better give it up, Dick, dear; it will be all right at night. Iassure you I shall be perfect in my music and words.'

'I must go through the act. The principals are responsible for themselves,but I must look to the chorus. Where's that damned property-master?'

On the subject of rehearsals Dick was always firm, and seeing that it couldnot be shirked, the chorus pulled themselves together, and the act was runthrough somehow. Then a few more invitations were whispered in the cornerson the sly, and the party in couples and groups repaired to the Lennoxes'lodgings. Mortimer, Beaumont, Dick, and Kate walked together, talking ofthe night's show. Dubois crushed his bishop's hat over his eyes, straddledhis ostler-like legs, and discussed Wagner's position in music withMontgomery and Dolly Goddard. A baronet's grandson, a chorus singer, toldhow his ancestor had won the Goodwood Cup half a century ago, to threeladies in the same position in the theatre as himself. Bret and Lesliefollowed very slowly, apparently more than ever enchanted with each other.

For the wedding breakfast, the obliging landlady had given up her own roomson the ground-floor. The table extended from the fireplace to the cabinet,the panels of which Mortimer was respectfully requested not to break whenhe was invited to take the foot of the table and help the cold salmon. Thebride and bridegroom took the head, and the soup was placed before them;for this was not, as Dick explained, a breakfast served by Gunter, but adinner suitable to people who had been engaged for some time back. At thisjoke no one knew if they should laugh or not, and Mortimer slyly attractedthe attention of the company to Bret and Leslie, who were examining thecake.

Then all spoke at once of the presents. They were of all sorts, and hadcome from different parts of the country. Mr. Cox had given a large diamondring. Leslie had presented Kate with a handsome inkstand. Bret had boughther a small gold bracelet. Dubois, whose fancies were light, offered a fan;Beaumont, a pair of earrings; Hayes, a cigarette case; Dolly Goddard, apaper-knife; Montgomery, a brooch which must have cost him at least amonth's salary. Mortimer exclaimed that his wife had been behaving ratherbadly lately, and that in consequence he had been unable to obtain fromher--what he had not been able to obtain Dick did not stop to listen to. Atthat moment the gold chain, the present from the chorus, caught his eye.The kindness of the girls seemed to affect him deeply, and, interruptingKate, who was thanking her friends for all their tokens of good-will, hesaid:

'I must really thank the ladies of the chorus for the very handsome presentthey made me. How sorry I am that they are not all here to receive mythanks I cannot say; but those who are here will, I hope, explain to theircomrades how we were pressed for space.'

'One would think you were refusing a free admission,' snarled Mortimer.

'What a bore that fellow is!' whispered Dick to Mr. Cox, the proprietor ofthe company, who had come down from London to arrange some business withhis manager.

'I'm sure, Mr. Lennox, we were only too glad to be able to give yousomething to show you how much we appreciate your kindness,' said a tallgirl, speaking in the name of the chorus.

'We must have some fizz after the show to-night on the stage. What do youthink. Cox?' said Dick. 'And then I shall be able to express my thanks toeveryone.'

'And we must have a dance,' cried Leslie. 'My foot is all right now.'

Chairs had to be fetched in from the bedroom and even from the kitchen toseat the fifteen people who had been invited. The ladies did not likesitting together and the supply of gentlemen was not sufficient--drawbacksthat were forgotten when the first few spoonfuls of soup had been eaten andthe sherry tasted. The women examined Mr. Cox with looks of deep inquiry,but his face told them nothing; it was grave and commercial, and he spokelittle to anyone except Kate and her husband. The baronet's son sat in themiddle of the table with the three chorus-girls, whom he continued topester with calculations as to how much he would be worth, but for hisancestor's ambition to win the Derby with Scotch Coast. Leslie and Bretwere on the other side of the wedding cake, and they leant towards eachother with a thousand little amorous movements. Beaumont spoke of theevening's performance, putting questions to Montgomery with a view toattracting Mr. Cox's attention.

'Do you think, Mr. Montgomery, that to take an encore for my song willinterfere with the piece?'

'I never heard of a lady putting the piece before herself,' saidMontgomery, with a loud laugh, for he, too, was anxious to attract Mr.Cox's attention, and availing himself of Miss Beaumont's question as a'lead up,' he said, 'I hope that when my opera is produced I shall findartists who will look as carefully after my interests.'

'But when will you have your opera ready?' Kate asked.

'My opera?' he said, as soon as she averted the brown eyes that burnt intohis soul. 'It's all finished. It's ready to put on the stage when Dicklikes.'

The ruse proved successful, for Mr. Cox, bending forward, said in aninterested voice:

'May I ask what is the subject of your opera, Mr. Montgomery?'

This was charming, and the musician at once proceeded to enter into acomplicated explanation, in which frequent allusion was made to a king, aband of conspirators, a neighbouring prince, a beautiful daughterunfortunately in love with a shepherd, and a treacherous minister. Beaumontlistened wearily, and, seeing that no mention she could make of her singingwould avail her, she commenced to fidget abstractedly with one of her bigdiamond earrings. In the meanwhile Montgomery's difficulties wereincreasing. To follow successfully the somewhat intricate story of king,conspirators, and amorous shepherd a sustained effort of attention wasnecessary, and this Dick, Kate, and Mr. Cox found it difficult to grant;for in the middle of a somewhat involved bit--in which it was not quiteclear whether the king or the minister had entered disguised--the landladywould beg to be excused--if they would just make a little way, so that shemight remove the soup.

This lady, in her Sunday cap, assisted by the maid-of-all-work, from whosecanvas-grained hands soap and water had not been able to extract the dirt,strove to lift large dishes of food over the heads of the company. Therewas a sirloin of beef that had to be placed before Mortimer. Then came twopairs of chickens, the carving of which Dick had taken upon himself. Apiece of bacon with cabbage, and a pigeon-pie, adorned the sides of thetable. The cutlets were handed round; and for some time conversation gaveway to the more necessary occupation of eating. Even Bret and Leslie leftoff billing and cooing; the grandson of the baronet, forgetful of hisfamily's misfortunes on the turf, dug vigorously into the pigeon-pie andliberally distributed it. The clattering of knives and forks swelled into asustained sound, which was only broken by observations such as 'Thanks, Mr.Lennox, anything that's handy--a leg, if you please.' May I ask you,Montgomery, for a slice of bacon? No cabbage, thank you.' 'Mr. Mortimer, alittle more and some gravy; that'll do nicely.'

It was not until the first helping had been put away, and eyes began towander in search of what would be best to go on with, that conversation wasresumed. To Mortimer, who had had a good deal of trouble with the beef,Dick said, 'I hope you are satisfied with your part, Mortimer, and that weshall have some good roars. The piece ought to go with a scream.'

'I think I shall knock 'em this time, old boy,' said the comic man,drawling his words slowly through his nose. 'It pretty well killed me whenI read it over to myself, so I don't know what it will be when I spit itout at them.'

This was deemed unnecessarily coarse, and for a moment it was feared thatMortimer was as drunk as Mr. Hayes, whose eyes were now beginning to blinkpathetically. He awoke up, however, with a start and a smile when the firstchampagne cork went off, and holding out his glass, said, 'Shall be veryglad to drink your health, a wedding only comes once in a lifetime.'

Mortimer tried to turn the embarrassing pause that followed this remark tohis profit. The beef having kept him silent during the early part of thedinner, he resolved now to prove what a humorist he was, and by raising hisvoice he strove to attract the attention of the company to himself. This,however, was not easily done. Dubois had begun to pinch the backside of thecanvas-handed maid, who was lifting a plate of custards over his head; butthese frivolities did not prevent him from discussing Carlyle's place inEnglish literature with the baronet's son on his left, and arguing fromtime to time with Montgomery on his right against certain effects employedby Wagner in his orchestration. Kate laid down her spoon and stared vaguelyinto space and again laid her hand on Dick's.

The past seemed now to be completely blotted out. What more could shedesire? She would go on acting, and Dick would continue to love her. Bysome special interposition of Providence all the hazards of existence overwhich she might have fallen had been swept aside. What broader road could awoman hope to walk in than the one that lay before her in all its clear andbland serenity? God had been good to her! and He was going to be good toher. What a tie the child would be, what an influence, what a source offuture happiness! They would work for their child; a boy or girl, which?Would it not give them courage to work? Would it not give them strength tolive? It would be something to hope for. Oh, how good God had been to her;and how wicked she had been to Him! Her heart filled with a fervour offaith she had never felt before; and facing the gracious future which achild and husband promised her, she offered up thanksgivings for herhappiness, which she accepted as eternal, so inherent did it seem inherself.

'Oh, just look at him!' said Kate, waking up with a start from herreveries. 'How can he make such a beast of himself?'

'Don't take any notice of him, dear; that's the best way.'

But Mortimer, who had been vainly struggling for the last five minutes todraw Beaumont from the memory of a lord, Dubois from his Wagnerianargument, and Bret and Leslie from their flirtation, now seized on poorHayes's drunkenness as a net wherein he could capture everybody. Raisinghis voice so as to ensure silence, he said, addressing himself to Mr. Coxat the other end of the table, 'How very affecting he is now, how severelynatural; the innocence of a young girl in her teens is not, to my mind,nearly so touching as that of a boozer in his cups. Have you ever heard howhe fancied the waiter was calling him in the morning when the policeman washauling him off to the station?'

Mr. Cox had not heard; and the whole story of how they bumped in the hoteldoor at Derby had to be gone through. Having thus got the company by theear, Mortimer showed for a long time no signs of letting them go. He wentstraight through his whole repertoire. He told of a man who wanted to posta letter, but not being able to find the letterbox, he applied to apoliceman. The bobby showed him something red in the distance, andexplained that that was the post. 'Keep the red in your eye, my boy,' saidthe drunkard; and this he did until he found himself in a public-housetrying to force his letter down a soldier's collar. He had mistaken the redcoat for the pillar. This was followed by a story of a man who apologizedto the trees in St. James's Park, and explained to them that he had comefrom a little bachelor's party, until he at last sat down saying, 'This isno good; I mus-mush wait till the bloody pro-prochession has passed.' Aheavy digestive indifference to everything was written on each countenance;and in the slanting rays of the setting sun the curling smoke vapoursassumed the bluest tints. Odours of spirits trailed along the tablecloth.Disconnected fragments of conversation, heard against the uninterruptedmurmur of Mortimer's story-telling, struck the ear. The baronet's son wasnow explaining to his three ladies that no woman could expect to get on inlife unless she were very immoral or very rich; Dubois argued across thetable with Leslie and Bret concerning the production of the voice: Beaumontcast luminous and provoking glances at Mr. Cox, and tried to engage him inconversation regarding the inartistic methods of most stage-managers inarranging the processions.

'Dick, dear, the cake hasn't yet been cut.'

'No more it hasn't,' Dick answered, and when the white-sugared emblem oflove and fidelity was distributed, the wedding party awoke to a burst ofenthusiasm. Everyone suggested something, and much whisky and water wasspilt on the tablecloth.

But matters, although they were advanced a stage, did not seem to be muchexpedited. The bride's health had to be drunk, and Dick had to returnthanks. He did not say very much, but his remarks concerning_Olivette_ suggested a good deal of comment. Mortimer took a differentview of the question, and Dubois explained at length how the piece had beendone in France. Leslie insisted that Bret should say something; and once onhis legs, to the surprise of everybody, the silent tenor becamesurprisingly garrulous.

It was Kate, however, who first guessed the reason of Montgomery'sdespondency, and in pity for him, she made a sign to the ladies, and theroom was left to the flat chests and tweed coats. Montgomery prayed thatthis after-dinner interval would not prove a long one, for he dreaded thesmutty stories. The baronet's son sprang off with a clear lead, watched byMortimer and Dubois. In the way of anecdotes these two would have beenrivals had it not been for the latter's fancy for more serious discussions.Still, in the invention and collection of the most atrocious, they bothemployed the energy and patience of the entomologist. A chance word, out ofwhich a racy story might be extracted, was pursued like a rare moth or abutterfly. Dubois's were more subtle, but Mortimer's, being more to thepoint, were more generally effective.

They waited eagerly for the baronet's son to conclude, and he had hardlypronounced the last phrase when Mortimer, coming with a rush, took the leadwith 'That reminds me of--' Dubois looked discomfited, and settled himselfdown to waiting for another chance. This, however, did not come just atonce; Mortimer told six stories, each nastier than the last. Everybody wasin roars except Montgomery and Dubois; whilst one thought of his opera, theother searched his memory for something that would out-Mortimer Mortimer.This was difficult, but when his turn came he surprised the company. Mr.Cox leaned over the table with a glass of whisky and water in his handdeclaring that he had never spent so pleasant a day in his life: and thusencouraged Dubois was just beginning to launch out into the intricacies ofa fresh tale when Montgomery, beside himself with despair, said to Dick:

'It was arranged that I should play the music of my new opera over to MrCox. If you don't put a stop to this it will go on for ever.'

The story proved a weary one; but like a long railway journey it at lastdrew to an end, and they went upstairs. There they found the ladies yawningand looking at the presents. Kate ran to Dick to ask him to arrange aboutthe music, but Beaumont had been a little before her and had taken Mr. Coxout on the balcony. Bret was not in the room; Leslie did not know themusic, and in the face of so many difficulties, Dick's attention soon beganto wander, and Kate was left to console the disappointed musician. Once ortwice she attempted to renew the subject, but was told that they were allgoing down to the theatre in half an hour, and that it had better be putoff to another time.

Montgomery made no answer, but he could not cast off the bitter andmalignant thought that haunted him, 'I'm as unfortunate in art as in love.'

XX

The ebb of the company's prosperity dated from Kate's marriage. Somehowthings did not seem to go well after. In the first place the production of_Olivette_ was not a success. Mortimer was drunk, did not know hiswords, and went 'fluffing all over the shop.' Kate, excited with champagneand compliments, sang the wrong music on one occasion; and to completetheir misfortunes, the Liverpool public did not in the least tumble to MissBeaumont's rendering of the part of the heroine. The gallery thought shewas too fat, the papers said she was not sprightly enough, and on Wednesdaynight the old _Cloches_ had to be put up. By this failure themanagement sustained a heavy loss. They had laid out a lot of money ondresses, property and scenery, all of which were now useless to them; andthe other two operas were beginning to droop and lose their drawing power,having been on the road for the last three years. The country, too, wassuffering from a great commercial crisis, and no one cared to go to thetheatre. In many of the towns they visited strikes were on, and the peoplewere convulsed with discussions, projects for resistance, and hopes ofbettering their condition. Great social problems, the tyranny of capital,and such-like, occupied the minds of men, and there was naturally littletaste for the laughing nonchalance of _La Fille de Madame Angot_ orthe fooling of the Baillie in the _Cloches_. As forty thousand men hadstruck work, our band of travelling actors rolled out of Leeds, and theyleft it bearing with them only a reminiscence of empty benches, andstreet-corners crowded with idling, sullen-faced men. At Newcastle theywere not more fortunate, at Wigan they fared even worse, and at Hull it wasequally bad. Gaiety seemed to have fled out of the North; the public-houseand the platform drew away the pit and the gallery; the frequenters of theboxes and dress-circle remained at home, to talk around their firesides oftheir jeopardized fortunes. When the workers grow weary of work a hard timesets in for the sellers of amusement, and the fate of Morton and Cox'sOperatic Company proved no exception to the rule. Money was made nowhere,and every Friday night a cheque for five-and-twenty pounds had to be sentdown from London to make up the deficit in the salary list. Neverthelessfor two months matters went on very smoothly. The remembrance of largeprofits made in preceding years was still fresh in the minds of Messrs.Morton and Cox, and they had not yet begun to grumble; but anunintermittent drain of twenty-five to forty pounds a week keeps a man fromhis sleep at night, and after a big failure in the city, in which Mr. Coxwas muleted to the extent of a couple of thousand pounds, he wrote to Dicksuggesting that he had better look out for another opera. This was welcomenews to Montgomery; but no sooner had Dick raised him to the seventh heavenof bliss, than he had to knock him down to earth again: a letter arrivedfrom Mr. Cox, saying that no opera was to be put up; that it would beuseless to try anything new in such bad times; they had better try toreduce expenses instead.

'Reduce expenses? How are we to reduce expenses except by cutting down thesalaries?'

'I'm sure I don't know,' said Montgomery; 'and the expense of mounting mypiece would be very slight.'

Without attempting to discuss so vain a question, Dick said, 'I must speakto Hayes.'

But Hayes only pulled his silky whiskers, blinked his Chinese eyes, drankthree glasses of whisky, and changed the position of his black bag severaltimes, and the matter was scarcely alluded to again until the followingfortnight, when Dick found himself forced to write to Mr. Cox demanding acheque for thirty-five pounds, to meet Saturday's treasury and the currentexpenses of the following week. The cheque arrived, but the letter thatcame with it read very ominously indeed. It read as follows:

'DEAR MR. LENNOX,--I enclose you the required amount; but of course youwill understand that this cannot go on. I intend running down to see you onTuesday evening. Will you have the company assembled to meet me at thetheatre, as I have an important explanation to make to them.'

Dick had too much experience in theatrical speculations not to know thatthis must mean either a reduction of salaries or a break-up of the tour;but as two whole days still stood between him and the evil hour, it did notoccur to him to give the matter another thought, and it was not until theyreturned home after the theatre, to prepare for the Sunday journey, that hespoke to Kate of the letter he had received.

Their portmanteaus were spread out before them, and Kate was counting herpetticoats when Dick said:

'I'll tell you what, Kate, I shouldn't be surprised if the company broke upshortly, and we all found ourselves obliged to look out for new berths.'

'What do you mean?' she said, with a startled look on her face.

'Well, only that I think that Morton and Cox are beginning to get tired oflosing money. As you know, we've been doing very bad business lately, and Ithink they'll give us all the sack.'

'Give us all the sack!' Kate repeated.

'Yes,' said Dick, pursuing his own reflections 'I'm afraid it's so. It's adeuced bore, for we were very pleasant together. But I don't think I showedyou the letter I got this morning. What's the matter, dear?'

Pale as the petticoat at her feet, Kate stood with raised eyebrows andhands that twitched at the folds of her dress.

'Oh, Dick! what shall we do? We shall starve; we shan't have any place togo to!'

'Starve!' said Dick in astonishment. 'Not if I know it. We shall easilyfind something else to do. Besides, I don't care if he does break up thetour. I believe there's a good bit of coin to be made out of the piertheatre at Blackpool. I've been thinking of it for some time--with a goodentertainment, you know; and then there's the drama Harding did for me--aversion of Wilkie Collins's story--_The Yellow Mask_--devilish good itis, too. I was reading it the other day. We might take a company out withit. Let me see, whom could we get to play in it?' And, sitting over hisportmanteau, the actor proceeded to cast the piece, commenting as he wentalong on the qualifications of the artists, and giving verbal sketches ofthe characters in the play. 'Beaumont would play Virginie first rate, youknow--a strong, determined, wicked woman, who stops at nothing. I'd like toplay the father; Mortimer would be very funny as the uncle. We'll have towrite in something for you. You couldn't take the sympathetic little girlyet; you haven't had enough experience.'

The expenses of scenery, properties, and posting were gone into, and whilelistening to the different estimates Kate looked at her husband vaguely,and plunged in a sort of painful wonderment, asking herself how standing onthe brink of ruin he could calmly make plans for the future. But to theactor, whose life had never run for a year without getting entangled insome difficult knot or other, the present hitch did not give the slightestuneasiness. A strange town to face and half a crown in his pocket mightcause him some temporary embarrassment, but a hundred pounds at the bank,and the notoriety of having been for two years the manager of a travellingcompany, was to Dick an exceptionally brilliant start in life, and it didnot occur to him to doubt that he would hop into another shop as good asthe one he had left. But as the woman had been engaged in none of theseanxious battles for existence, the news of a threatened break-up of herworld fell with a cruel shock upon her, and she experienced in anaggravated form the same dull nervous terror from which she had suffered inthe early days when she had first joined the company, but then the fulltide of love and prosperity bore their bark along, and quieted her fears.But now in the first puff of the first squall she saw herself like onewrecked and floating on a spar in a wide and unknown sea of trouble.Sitting on the bed where she would never sleep again, she watched Dickcounting on his fingers and looking dreamily into the spaces of someimpossible future, and asked herself what was to become of them. For thetwentieth time since she had donned them the robes of the Bohemian fellfrom her, and she became again in instincts and tastes a middle-class womanlonging for a home, a fixed and tangible fireside where she might sit inthe evening by her husband's side, mending his shirts, after the work ofthe day. A bitter detestation of her wandering life rose to her head, andshe longed to beg of her husband to give up theatricals, and try to findsome other employment; and the next day it appeared to her more thanusually sinful to drive to the station as the church bells were chiming,spending the hours, that should have been passed in praying, in playing'nap,' smoking cigarettes, and talking of wigs, make-ups, choruses, andsuch-like. But apparently there was no help for it, and on Monday night, inher excitement, increased by the arrival of Mr. Cox, she could not helpgetting out of bed to beseech God to be merciful to them; her husband'sheavy breathing often interrupted her, but it told her that he was herhusband, and that was her only consolation.

It astonished her that he could sleep as he did, having in front of him theterrible to-morrow, when perhaps Mr. Cox would cast them adrift; and shetrembled in every fibre when she stood on the stairs leading to themanager's room. There was a great crowd: the chorus-girls wedged themselvesinto a solid mass, and murmured good-mornings to each other; Mortimer tolda long story from the top step; Dubois tried to talk of Balzac toMontgomery, who listened, puzzled and interested, fancying it was aquestion of a libretto; whilst Bret, till now silent as the dead, suddenlywoke up to the conclusion that it would probably all end in a reduction ofsalaries. At last Dick appeared and called them into the presence of Mr.Cox. Whisky and water was on the table, and with the silky whiskers plungedin the black bag, Mr. Hayes fumbled aimlessly with many papers. The 'boss'looked very grave and twitched at a heavy moustache; and when they were allgrouped about him, in his deepest and most earnest tones, he explained hismisfortunes. For the last four months he had been forced to send down aweekly cheque of not less than five-and-twenty pounds; sometimes, indeed,the amount had run up to forty pounds. This, of course, could not go on forever, he had not the Bank of England behind him. But talking of banks,although there was no reason why he should inflict on them an account ofhis bad luck, he could not refrain from saying that had it not been for acertain bank he should be forced to ask them to accept half salaries. Thewords brought a flush of indignation to Beaumont's cheeks. She made aslight movement, as if she were going to repudiate the suggestionviolently, but the silence of those around calmed her, and she contentedherself with murmuring to Dolly:

'This is an old dodge.'

'I will leave you now,' said Mr. Cox, 'to consult among yourselves as towhether you will accept my proposal, or if you would prefer me to break upthe tour at the end of the week, and pay you your fares back to London.'

As Mr. Cox left the room there was a murmur of inquiry from the chorusladies, and one or two voices were heard above the rest saying that theydid not know how they could manage on less than five-and-twenty shillings aweek. These objections were soon silenced by Dick, who in a persuasivelittle speech explained that the reduction of salaries applied to theprincipals only.

'Then why derange these ladies and gentlemen by asking them to attend atthis meeting?' said Mortimer.

To this question Dick made answer by telling the ladies and gentlemen ofthe chorus they might withdraw, and the discussion was resumed by thosewhom it concerned. Beaumont objected to everything. Bret spoke of goingback to Liverpool. Dubois explained his opinions on the management oftheatres in general, until Dick summoned him back to the point. Were theyor were they not going to accept half salaries? At length the matter wasdecided by Mortimer getting upon a chair and shouting through his nose asthrough a pipe:

'I don't know if you're all fond of hot weather, but if you are you'll findit to your taste in London; all the theatres are closed, and the cats arebaking on the tiles.'

This brought the argument to a pause, during which Beaumont remembered thatgrouse were shot in August, and settling her diamonds in her ears, sheagreed that the tour was to be continued. A few more remarks were made, andthen the party adjourned to a neighbouring 'pub.' to talk of _operabouffes_ and bad business.

The next places they visited were Huddersfield and Bradford, but the housesthey played to were so poor that Mr. Cox summoned a general meeting on theSunday morning, and told them frankly that he could not go on losing moneyany longer; he would, however, lend them the dresses, and they might starta commonwealth if they liked. After much discussion it was decided toaccept his offer, and the afternoon was spent in striving to decide how thebusiness was to be carried on. A committee was at last formed consisting ofDick, Mortimer, Dubois, Montgomery, Bret, and Mr. Hayes, and they settled,as they went on to Halifax by an evening train, that the chorus was, hit ormiss, to be paid in full, and the takings then divided among the principalsproportionately to the salary previously received.

In the face of the bad times it was a risky experiment, and Williams, theagent in advance, was anxiously looked out for at the station. What did hethink? Was there a chance of their doing a bit of business in the town?Were there bills up in all the public-houses? Williams did not at firstunderstand this unusual display of eagerness, but when the commonwealth wasexplained to him, his face assumed as grey an expression as the pimpleswould allow it. He shoved his dust-eaten pot-hat on one side, scratched histhin hair, and after some pressing, admitted that he didn't think that theywould do much good in the place; as far as he could see, everybody's ideaswere on striking and politics; the general election especially was playingthe devil with managers; at least that was what the company that had justleft said.

This was chilling news, and, alas! each subsequent evening proved only thecorrectness of Mr. Williams's anticipations. Seven-pound houses were therule. On Friday and Saturday they had two very fair pits, but this couldnot compensate for previous losses, and in the end, when all expenses werepaid, only five-and-thirty shillings remained to be divided among theprincipals. Their next try was at Oldham, but matters grew worse instead ofbetter, and on Saturday night five-and-twenty shillings was sorrowfullyportioned out in equal shares. It did not amount to much more than half acrown apiece. Rochdale, however, was not far distant, and, still hopingthat times would mend, Morton and Cox's band of travelling actors sped ontheir way, dreaming of how they could infuse new life into their mumming,and whip up the jaded pleasure-tastes of the miners. But for the momentcomic songs proved weak implements in the search for ore, and the committeesitting in the green-room, used likewise as a dressing-room by the twoladies, counted out a miserable four-and-ninepence as the result of aweek's hard labour.

Beaumont fumed before the small glass, arranging her earrings as if sheanticipated losing them; Kate trembled and clung to her husband's arm,Montgomery cast sentimental glances of admiration at her, and Mortimertried to think of something funny, while Dubois came to the point byasking:

'Well, what are you going to do with that four-and-ninepence? It isn'tworth dividing. I suppose we'd better drink it.'

At the mention of drinks Mr. Hayes blinked and shifted the black bag fromthe chair to the ground.

'Yes, that's easily arranged,' said Dick, 'but what about the tour? I forone am not going on at four-and-ninepence a week.'

Everybody laughed, but in the pause that ensued, each returned to the ideathat there was no use going on at four-and-ninepence a week.

'For we can't live on drink, although Beaumont can upon love,' saidMortimer, determined to say something.

But the joke amused no one, and for some time only short and irrelevantsentences broke the long silences. At last Dick said:

'Well, then, I suppose we'd better break up the tour.'

To this proposal no one made much objection. Murmurs came from differentsides that it was a great pity they should have to part company in this wayafter having been so long together. Montgomery and Dubois contributedlargely to this part of the conversation, and through an atmosphere ofwhisky and soap-suds arose a soft penetrating poetry concerning thedelights of friendship. It was very charming to think and speak in thisway, but all hoped, with perhaps the exception of Montgomery, that no onewould insist too strongly on this point, for in the minds of all newthoughts and schemes had already begun to germinate. Mortimer remembered aletter he had received from a London manager; Dubois saw himself hobnobbingagain with the old 'pals' in the Strand; Bret silently dreamed of MissLeslie's dyed hair and blue eyes, and of his chances of getting into thesame company.

'Then, if it is decided to break up the tour, we must make a subscriptionto send the chorus back to London,' said Dick after a long silence.

Nobody till now had thought of these unfortunate people and theirtwenty-five shillings a week, but always ready to help a lame dog over astile, Dick planked down two 'quid' and called on the others to do whatthey could in the same way. Mr. Hayes strewed the table instantly with themoney he had in his pocket. Mortimer spoke about his wife and mentioneddetails of an intimate nature to show how hard up he was; he neverthelessstumped up a 'thin 'un.' Beaumont, rampant at the idea of 'parting,'contributed the same; indignant looks were levelled at her, and Dickcontinued to exhort his friends to be generous. 'The poor girls,' hedeclared, 'must be got home; it would never do to leave them starving inLancashire.' Kate gave a sovereign of her savings, and in this waysomething over ten pounds was made up; with that Dick said he thought hecould manage.

The trouble he took to manage everything was touching. On Sunday, when Katewas at church, he was down at the railway station trying to find out whatwere the best arrangements he could make. And on Monday morning when theywere all assembled on the platform to bid good-bye to their fellow-workers,it was curious to see this huge man, who at a first impression would betaken for a mere mass of sensuality, rushing about putting buns andsandwiches in paper bags for his poor chorus-girls, encouraging them withkind words, and when the train began to move, waving them large andunctuous farewells with his big hat.

Since the first shock of the threatened break-up of the tour Kate hadgradually grown accustomed to the idea and now wept in silence. Withoutprecisely suffering from any pangs of fear for the future, an immensesadness seemed to ache within her very bones. All things were passing away.The flock of girls in whose midst she had lived was gone; a later trainwould take Mortimer to London; Bret was bidding them good-bye; Beaumont wasconsulting a Bradshaw. How sad it seemed! The theatre and artists werevanishing into darkness like a dream. Not a day, nor an hour, could she seein front of her.

'What shall we do now?' she whispered to Dick, as she trotted along by hisside.

'Well, I haven't quite made up my mind. I was thinking last night that itwouldn't be a bad idea to make up a little entertainment--four or five ofus--and see what we could do in the manufacturing towns. Lancashire is, youknow, honeycombed with them. Our travelling expenses would amount to a merenothing. We must have someone to operate on the piano. I wonder ifMontgomery would care about coming with us.'

Kate thought that he would, and as she happened at that moment to catchsight of the long tails of the Newmarket coat at the other side of thestation, she begged Dick to call to the erratic musician. No sooner was theproposition put forward than it was accepted, and in five minutes they wereat luncheon in a 'pub,' arranging the details of the entertainment.

'We shall want an agent-in-advance, a bill-poster, or something of thatkind,' said Montgomery.

'I've thought of that,' replied Dick; 'Williams is our man, he'll see toall that; and I don't know if you know, but he can sing a good song on hisown account.'

'Can he? Well, then, we can't have anyone better--and what shall we takeout?'

'Well, we must have a little operetta, and I don't think we can do betterthan Offenbach's _Breaking the Spell_.'

'Right you are,' said Montgomery, pulling out his pocket-book. '_Breakingthe Spell_, so far so good; now we must have a song or a charactersketch to follow, and I don't think it would be a bad idea if we rehearseda comedietta. What do you say to _The Happy Pair_?'

'Right you are, pencil it down, can't do better, it always goes well; andthen I can sing between "The Men of Harlech."'

Montgomery looked a little awry at the idea of having to listen to 'The Menof Harlech,' sung by Dick, but in the discussion that followed as to whatKate was to do, 'The Men of Harlech' was forgotten.

As Dick anticipated, Williams declared himself delighted to accompany themin the double capacity of bill-poster and occasional singer; and after afortnight's rehearsal at Rochdale, the Constellation Company started on itswanderings. Many drinks had been consumed in seeking for the name; manystrange combinations of sound and sense had been rejected, and it was notuntil Dick began to draw lines on a piece of paper, affixing names to theend of each, that the word suggested itself. What joy! What rapture! A rushwas made to the printers, and in a few hours the following bill wasproduced:

As the Constellation Company drove to the station, Kate noticed thatRochdale and Hanley were not unlike, and the likeness between the two townsset her thinking how strange it was. Here was the same red town, narrowstreets, built of a brick that, under a dull sky, glared to a rich geraniumhue. The purplish tints of Hanley alone were wanting, but the heavysmoke-clouds, and the tall stems of the chimneys, were as numerous inRochdale as in her native place. And, coincidence still more marvellous,Nature had apparently aided and abetted what man's hand had contrived, forin either town a line of hills swept around the sky. The only differencewas, that the characteristics of Rochdale were not so marked as those ofHanley. The hills were not so high, nor were they in such close array asthose of the Staffordshire town, and the Lancashire valley was not so deepand trench-like as the one that engirdles the potteries. It may be that asmuch smoke hung over it, but the smoke did not seem so black and poisonous,at least not to Kate's eyes; and, as the train sped along a high embankmenta group of factory chimneys emerged from a fold in the hills, and comparingthe two landscapes it seemed to her there were more fields in theLancashire valley, water-courses, trees and hedges--stunted hedges, it istrue--but she did not remember any hedges about Hanley. At one moment shewas minded to turn to Dick and to call his attention to the likeness in thecountry they were travelling through to the country she had come from; hadshe been alone with him she might have asked him, but he was now busytalking of the comic songs and sketches in which they were to act. 'TheMulligan Guards' was one of the items on their programme, and she and Dickwere going to sing it together. This would be the first time they had eversung together. Dick had very little voice, but he was a good actor, and shethought they would be able to make a success of it. He called her attentionand the attention of the other members of the Constellation Company to thescattered towns and villages they were passing through.

'The very country for our kind of entertainment,' he said; and all themummers rose from their seats and gazed at the wolds and factories. Underthe green waste of a wold a chimney had been run up; sheds and labourers'cottages had followed, and in five years, if the factory prospered, thisbeginning would swell into a village, in twenty it would possess twentythousand inhabitants; for just as in old times the towns followed thecastles, so do they now follow in the wake of the factories. The mummersgaped and wondered at the arsenic green sides of the wolds, striped withrough stone walls or blackened with an occasional coalpit, the ridgesfringed with trees blown thin by sea-breezes. In the distance, within thefolds of the hills, tall chimneys clustered and great clouds of smoke hunglistless in the still autumn air. Cold rays of sunlight strayed for amoment on the dead green of the fields, pale as invalids enjoying the airfor the last time before a winter seclusion. And later on, when the lightmists of evening descended and bore away the landscape, the phantom shapesof the wolds took on a strange appearance, producing in Kate a sensation ofmobility, which to escape from, for it frightened her, she turned to Dickand asked how far they were from Bacup. He told her they would be there inabout half an hour, and half an hour afterwards Williams, who had gone onin front, met them at the station, and began at once the tale of hisindustry, saying that he had been in every public-house, and had stood atthe corners of all the principal streets distributing bills.

'I think we shall do pretty well,' he said; 'my only bit of bad news isthat I haven't been able to find any lodgings for you; there's but onehotel, and all the rooms are taken.'

Dick, who on such occasions always took time by the forelock, insisted onstarting at once on their search--and up and down the murky streets of themanufacturing town they walked until it was time for them to repair to theMechanics' Hall, where they were going to play, and get ready for theentertainment.

'The Mulligan Guards' proved a great success, as did also the operetta,_Breaking the Spell_. Kate's pretty face and figure won the hearts ofthe factory hands, and she was applauded whenever she appeared on thestage; and so frequent were the encores that it was half-past ten beforethey had finished their programme, and close on eleven o'clock before theygot out of the hall into the street. Then the search for lodgings had tobegin again. Montgomery and Williams, being single men, obtained beds, butKate and Dick were not so easily satisfied, and they found themselvesstanding under a porch with the lights going out on all sides, and theprospect of spending a wet night in the street before them. At last Dickbethought himself of the police station, but on applying to a policeman hewas directed to the backdoor of a public-house. 'He was pretty sure,'whispered the boy in blue, 'to get put up there.' The door was opened withprecaution, and they were allowed in. The place was full of people; it tookthem a long time to get served, and they were at length told that in theway of a room nothing could be done for them. Every bed in the house wasoccupied. Kate raised her eyes to Dick, but her look of misery wasanticipated by a rough-faced carter who stood at the counter.

'You bear up, little woman,' he said abruptly; 'don't yo' look sofroightent. Yo' shall both come up to my place, if yo' will; it isna up tomuch, but oi'll do th' best I can for yo'.'

There was no mistaking the kindness with which the offer was made, thoughthe idea of going to sleep at this rough man's house for the momentstaggered even the mummer. But as it was now clear that they would haveeither to accept their new friend's hospitality, or spend the night on thedoorstep, it did not take them long to decide on the former alternative.Their only reason for hesitating was their inability to understand whatwere his motives for asking them to come to his place. Then, as if diviningthe reason of their uncertainty, he said:

'I know yo' well, tho' yo' don't know me. I was up at the 'all to-night,and yo' did make me so laugh that I wouldna' see yo' in the streets fornothing. Neaw, let it be yea or nay, master.'

For answer, Dick put out his hand; and when he had thanked the hospitablyinclined carter, put some questions to him about the entertainment. Soonthe two began to 'pal,' and after another drink they all went off together.

After wading down a few sloppy streets, he stopped before a low doorway,and ushered them into what looked like an immense kitchen. They saw raftersoverhead and an open staircase ascending to the upper rooms, as a laddermight through a series of lofts; and when a candle had been obtained, thefirst thing their host did was to pull his wife out of bed, and insist onhis guests getting into it, a request which the woman joined in as heartilyas her husband as soon as the reason for this unceremonious awakening hadbeen explained to her. And so wearied out were Kate and Dick, and sotempting did any place of rest look to them, that they could offer noopposition to the kind intentions of their host and hostess, and they sleptheavily until roused next morning by a loud trampling of feet passingthrough their room. It was the family coming down from the lofts above, andas they descended the staircase they wished their guests a broad Lancashiregood-morning.

And when Kate and Dick had recovered from their astonishment, they dressedand went out to buy some provisions, which they hoped to be allowed to cookin the rough kitchen; but when they returned with their purchases theyfound the carter's daughter standing before an elaborately preparedbreakfast, consisting of a huge beefsteak and a high pile of cakes.

'Lor, marm, why did yo' buy those things?' said the girl, disappointed.

'Well,' said Kate, 'we couldn't think of trespassing on you in thatfashion. You must, you will, I hope, let us prepare our own breakfast.'

'Feyther will never 'ear of it, I know,' said the girl; and immediatelyafter, the carter, with his brawny arms, pushed Kate and Dick down into twoseats at the big table. Both cake and meat were delicious, and Dick'sappetite showed such signs of outdoing the carter's that Kate, in the hopeof diverting attention, commenced an interesting conversation with thebuxom maiden by her side, and so successful were her efforts that afriendship was soon established between the women; and, when the morning'swork was done, Mary, of her own accord, sought out Kate, and as she knittedthe thick woollen stocking, was easily led into telling the inevitable lovestory.

We change the surroundings, but a heart bleeds under all social variations;and in this grim manufacturing town when the bridal dress was taken out ofits lavender and darkness it seemed to possess a gleam of poetic whitenessthat it could not have had even if set off by the pleasant verdure of aDevonshire lane.

'But you'll keep it for another; another will be sure to come by verysoon,' said Kate, trying to console.

'Nay, nay, I'll have no other,' said the girl. 'I'll just keep the dressby; but I'll have no other.'

Then the talk hesitated and fell at last into a long narrative concerningtender hopes and illusions to which Kate listened, as all women do, to thestory of heart-aches and deceptions; and in after years, when all otherremembrances of the black country were swept away, the remembrance of thiswhite dress remained.

From Bacup they went to Whitworth, a town in such immediate neighbourhoodthat it might be called a suburb of the former place, and there they playedin the Co-operative Hall to an audience consisting of a factory man, twochildren, and a postman who came in on the free list. This was notencouraging; but they, nevertheless, resolved to try the place again; andnext day at dinner-time, as the 'hands' were leaving the factories, theydistributed some hundreds of bills. Dick said he should never forget it; towatch Pimply Face cutting about, shoving his bills into the women's aprons,was the funniest thing he had ever seen in his life. But their efforts wereall in vain. It rained, and not a soul came to see them; and, in additionto their other troubles, they found Whitworth was an awkward place to stopat. Dick and his wife had a room in a pub, but Montgomery and Williams hadto walk over each evening to sleep at Bacup. One day their landlady spokeof Clayton-le-Moors, where, she said, a fair was being held, and sheadvised the Constellation Company to try their entertainment there. Thiswas considered as a sensible suggestion, and the four mummers started forthe fair on the top of an omnibus with their wigs and dresses and make-upsstuck under their legs. The weather at least was in their favour. Thesunlight rolled over the great white sides of the booths, Aunt Sallies werebeing shied at, the pubs were all open, and a huge, rollicking population,fetid with the fermenting sweat of the factories, was disporting on whiskyand fresh air. Never were the spirits of dejected strolling players buoyedup with a fairer prospect of a harvest.

The next thing to do was to distribute the handbills, and find a placewhere they could set up their show, and, to conduct their search morethoroughly, they separated, after having decided on a tryst. In this waythe town was thoroughly ransacked; but it was not until Kate, who had goneoff on her own accord, learnt from the landlord of a public-house, whereshe had entered to get a drink, that he had a large concert-room overhead,that there seemed to be the slightest chance of the Constellation Companybeing able to turn the joviality of the factory hands at the fair to anyaccount. Matters now seemed to be looking up, and a very neat littlearrangement was entered into with the proprietor of the pub. Fourentertainments of ten minutes each were to be given every hour, for each ofwhich the sum of threepence a head was to be charged, twopence to go to theartists, a penny to the landlord, who would, of course, make his 'bit' alsoout of the drink supplied. And what a success they had that day! Not onlydid the factory hands come in, but they paid their threepence over and overagain. They seemed never to grow tired of hearing Dick and Kate sing 'TheMulligan Guards,' and when she called out 'Corps' and he touched his cap,and they broke into a dance, the delight of the workpeople knew no bounds,and they often stopped the entertainment to hand up their mugs of beer tothe mummers with a 'Ave a soop, mon.'

From twelve o'clock in the day until eleven at night the affair was keptgoing; Kate, Dick, and Williams dancing and singing in turn, and Montgomeryall the while spanking away at the dominoes. It was heavy work, but thecoin they took was considerable, and it came in handy, for in the nextthree towns they did very badly. But at Padiham a curious accident turnedout in the end very luckily for them. There were but five people in thehouse, one of whom was drunk. This fellow very humorously in the middle ofthe entertainment declared that he was going to sing a song; he even wantedto appropriate Williams's wig, and when Dick, who was always chucker-out onsuch occasions, attempted to eject him, he climbed out of reach and lodgedhimself in one of the windows. From there he proceeded to call to thepeople in the street, and with such excellent result that they made L18 inthe hall during the evening.

This, and similar slices of good fortune, kept the Constellation Companyrolling from one adventure to another. Sometimes a wet day came to theirassistance; sometimes a dispute between some factory hands and the mastersbrought them a little money. Their wants were simple; a bed in a pub, and asteak for dinner was all they asked for. But at last, as winter wore on,ill-fortune commenced to follow them very closely and persistently. Theyhad been to four different towns and had not made a ten-pound note todivide between the lot of them. In the face of such adversity it was notworth while keeping on; besides, Kate's expected confinement rendered itimpossible to prolong their little tour much farther. For these reasons,one November morning the Constellation Company, hoping they would soon meetagain, under more auspicious circumstances, bade each other good-bye at therailway station. Williams and Montgomery went to Liverpool, Kate and Dickto make a stay at Rochdale, where they had heard that many companies werecoming. The companies came, it is true, but they were, unfortunately,filled up, and Lennox and his wife could not get an engagement in any ofthem. The little money saved out of their tour enabled them to keep bodyand soul together for about a month; but in the fifth week they weretelling the landlady lies, and going through all the classicexcuses--expecting a letter every day, by Monday at the very latest, etc.In the face of Kate's approaching confinement this was a state of thingsthat made even Dick begin to look anxiously round and fear for the safetyof the future. Kate, on the contrary, although fretted and wearied, tookmatters more easily than might have been expected; and the changing oftheir last ten shillings frightened her less than had the firstannouncement of the possible breaking up of Morton and Cox's OperaticCompany. Bohemianism had achieved in her its last victory; and havinglately seen so many of the difficulties of life solving themselves in waysthat were inexplicable to her, she had unconsciously come to think thatthere was no knot that chance, luck, or fate would not untie. Besides, herbig Dick's resources were apparently unlimited; the present weakness of hercondition tended to induce her to rely more than ever upon his protection;and in the lassitude of weak hopes, she contented herself with prayingoccasionally that all would yet come right. But her lover, although he toldher nothing of his fears, was not so satisfied. Never before had he beenquite so hard pressed. They now owed a week's rent, besides other smalldebts; all of which they were unable to pay unless they pawned theremainder of their clothes. He said it would be far better for them to goto Manchester, leaving their things, to be redeemed some day, as a securitywith the landlady--that is to say, if they failed to get out of the housewithout being perceived by her. They still had half a crown, which wouldpay Kate's railway fare, and as regards himself, Dick proposed that heshould do the journey on foot; he would be able to walk the distance easilyin three hours, and at eleven o'clock would join his wife at an addresswhich he gave her, with many injunctions as to the story that was to betold to the landlady. So, as the clock was striking seven one cold winter'smorning, they stole quietly downstairs, Dick carrying a small portmanteau.On the table of their room a letter was left, explaining that a telegramreceived overnight called them to Manchester, but that they hoped to beback again in a few days--a week at latest.

This assurance Dick considered would amply satisfy the old dame, andholding the portmanteau on his shoulder with one arm, and supporting Katewith the other, he made his way to the station.

The day had not yet begun to break. A heavy, sluggish night hung over thetown. The streets were filled with puddles and flowing mud; and Kate wasfrequently obliged to stop and rest against the lamp-posts. She complainedof feeling very ill, and she walked with difficulty. In the stragglinglight of the gas, Dick looked at her pale, pretty features, accentuated bysuffering; he felt that he had never known before how dearly he loved her,and the pity for her that filled his heart choked him when he attempted tospeak: and his eyes misted with tears and he could not bring his mind toleave her. He thought of the old dodge of travelling on the luggage, butfearing that the woman to whose house they were going would not let them inunless they had at least one portmanteau to show, he determined to adhereto the original plan of sending Kate on in front; and although tortured bymany fears, he hid them, assuring her that their troubles would be overonce they set foot in Manchester: all he had to do was to go down to theTheatre Royal to get an engagement. And he spoke so kindly that hiskindness seemed to repay her for her sufferings.

For some days past she had been subject to violent nauseas and acute pains,and as she bade him goodbye out of the railway-carriage window, she had tobend and press herself against it. And feeling he must encourage her he ranalong the platform till the train began to leave him behind, and he stoppedout of breath with a cloud of melancholy upon his cheeks, generally sorestful in a happy animalism--yet the fat hand lifted the big-brimmed blackfelt hat, the frizzly curls blew in the cold wind, the train oscillated andthen rolled and disappeared round a bend in the line.

That was all. What had been done was over, as completely as the splash madeby a stone dropped into a well, and the actor awoke to a feeling thatsomething new had again to be begun.

After descending the steps of the station, he asked to be directed, and fora long time his way lay through a street, made by red brick houses withstucco porches; but at length these commenced to divide into cottages, andafter many inquiries, he was shown into what he was told was an old Romanroad, called 'Going over Tindel.' The wind blew bitterly, and against amurky sky the fretted trees on the higher ridges were like veils of greylace.

Walking was not Dick's forte, and leaning against a farm gate, his eyesembraced the wild black scenery, and remembrances of the Hanley hillsdrifted through his thoughts. There were the same rolling wastes, and likethe pieces on a chess-board the factory chimneys appeared at irregularintervals. But these topographical similarities attracted Dick only so faras they filled his mind with old memories and associations, and histhoughts flowed from the time he had stood with his wife at the top ofMarket Street to the present hour. He neither praised nor blamed himself.He accepted things as they were without criticism, and they appeared to himlike a turgid dream swollen and bleak as the confused expanse of distancebefore him.

The stupor into which he occasionally fell endured until a quick thoughtwould strike through the mental gloom that oppressed him, and relinquishingthe farm gate he would moodily resume his walk through the heavy slosh ofthe wet roads. As he did so the vision of Kate's pain-stricken face hauntedhim, and at every step his horror of the danger she ran of being taken illbefore arriving in Manchester grew darker, and he toiled up hill afterhill, yearning to be near her, desiring only the power to relieve and tohelp. Often the intensity of his longing would force him into a run, andthen the farm labourers would turn from their work to gaze on this hugecreature, who stood on a hill-top wearily wiping his forehead.

And then he grew sick of the long, staring, rolling landscape, with itsthousand sinuosities, its single trees, its detailed foreground of scrub,hedges, brooks, spanned by small brick bridges, the melting distance, themurky sky, the belching chimneys: he asked himself if it would never end,if it would never define itself into the streets of Manchester. And as hedescended each incline his eyes searched for the indication of a town,until at last he saw lines of smoke, factories, and masses of brick on hisleft, and he hastened.

All the markings of the way were looked forward to, the outlying streetsseemed endless, and so great was his hurry that before he discovered he wasin Oldham, he had walked into the middle of the town.

His disappointment was bitter indeed, almost unbearable, and for the momenthe felt that he could go no farther; his courage was exhausted, it wasimpossible he could face that bleak mocking landscape again. Besides, hewas fainting for want of food. Had he possessed a few pence to treathimself to a glass of beer and a bit of bread and cheese, he thought hewould be able to pull himself together and make another effort; but he wasdestitute. Still, he was forced to try again. The thought of Kate burned inhis brain, and after having inquired the way, with weary and aching feet heonce more trudged manfully on. A fretful suspicion now haunted him that shemight not find the landlady as agreeable as would under the circumstancesbe desirable, and he reasoned with himself as he crossed into the opencountry, until anxiety became absorbed by fatigue. Of every passer-by didhe ask the way, and as he passed the stately villas Dick felt that hadthere been much farther to walk he would have had to beg a lift from one ofthe waggoners who passed him constantly driving their heavy teams. But hewas now in Manchester, and wondering if he had taken longer to walk than hehad expected, he looked into the shop windows in search of a clock, andwhen he rang at the door of the lodging-house his heart beat as rapidly asthe jangling bell that pealed through the house The maid who answered thedoor told him that she knew of no such person and was about to shut thedoor in his face, but Dick's good-natured smile compelled her into parley,and she admitted that, having been out on an errand, she had not seen themissus since ten o'clock. A lady might have called, but she wasn't in thehouse now; they were as full as they could hold.

'And are you certain that a lady might have called about ten or half-pastwithout your having seen her?'

'I was out on a herrant at that time, so I'm sure she might, for missuswouldn't mind to tell me if I wasn't to get rooms ready for her.'

'And what would your mistress do in the case of not being able to supply alady with rooms?'

'I should think she would send round to Mrs. ---- well--I don't rememberright the name.'

'Do you know the address?'

'I know it's behind the station, one of those streets where--nay--but Idon't think I could direct you right.'

'Then what shall I do?'

'Missus will be in shortly. If you'll take a seat in the 'all--I can't askyou into any other room, they're all occupied.

There was nothing to do but to accept, and after having asked when thelandlady might be expected in, and receiving the inevitable 'Reallycouldn't say for certain, sir, but I don't think she'll be long,' he satdown in a chair, weary and footsore; there were times when struck by asudden thought he would make a movement as if to start from his seat; butinstantly remembering his own powerlessness, he would slip back into hisattitude of heavy fatigue. In the dining-room the clock ticked, and helistened to the passing of the minutes, tortured by the idea that his wifewas suffering, dying, and that he was not near to help, to assist, toassuage. He forgot that they were penniless, homeless; all was lost in aboundless pity, and he listened to the footsteps growing sharper as theyapproached, and duller as they went. At last the sound of the latchkey washeard in the lock, and Dick started to his feet. It was the landlady.

'Have you seen my wife?'

'Yes, sir,' exclaimed the astonished woman; 'she was here this morning; allour rooms are let, so I couldn't----'

'Where has she gone to, do you know?'

'Well, sir, I was going to say, she asked me if I could recommend her tosome quiet place, and I sent her to Mrs. Hurley's.'

'And will you give me Mrs. Hurley's address?'

'Yes, sir, certainly; but if I may make so bold, you're looking verytired--may I offer you a glass of beer? And Mrs. Lennox is looking very badtoo, she is--'

'I'm much obliged, but I've no time; if you'd give me the address....'

No sooner were the words spoken than, forgetful of his aching feet, Dickrushed away, and dodging the passers-by he ran until he laid hands on theknocker and bell in question.

'Is Mrs. Lennox staying here?' he asked of the lady who opened the door.

'There was a lady of that name who inquired for rooms here this morning.'

'And isn't she here? Why didn't she take the rooms?'

'Well, sir, she said she was expecting to be confined, and I didn't care tohave illness in my house.'

'You don't mean to tell me that you turned her out? Oh, you atrocious--! Ifyou were a man....'

Overpowered with rage he stopped for words, and the woman, fearing he wouldstrike her, strove to shut the door. But Dick, with his thick leg,prevented her, and at this moment they were joined by the maid, who